The Imperial Enchanter
by SerenityFalconNormandy
Summary: Written for the Dragon Age Reddit Companion Challenge Prompt: DAI Recruitment: Meeting the Inquisitor from a companion or a refused companion's POV. Madame de Fer's first impressions of the Herald of Andraste


_Oh, dear. This will not do, this simply will not do._

Vivienne had heard that the supposed Herald of Andraste was, of all things, a Dalish elf, but this… The Dalish was a _mage_ , and had no concept of proper attire for attending an Orlesian salon. She was covered in dust from travel, and looked to be wearing something more fitting for an Avvar barbarian than the chosen of the Maker's Bride. The winter chill was quite harsh in Ferelden and outside Bastien's chateau, but really. Lady Montilyet should have had the girl properly dressed, or at _least_ coerced her into covering those barbaric marks on her face.

Two of her guests stepped forward, hovering around the elven woman. She looked taken aback at the sudden interest, but handled it marvelously, recomposing herself and answering their questions with a politeness that caused Madame de Fer to raise an eyebrow behind her mask. The girl might be trainable. Or at least amenable to a bath and proper clothing.

As she had planned and hoped, Marquis Alphonse marched down the staircase spewing insults. Rather than lashing out as one would expect of a savage Dalish, the dark-skinned elf simply raised a midnight brow at him. Surprisingly, Seeker Pentaghast stepped forward, sword half drawn, and the elf merely laid a hand on her forearm. Her chin lifted, and with an accent far more cultured than one of her people was expected to have, spoke. "I've never made any claims to holiness."

Vivienne lifted the corners of her mouth a touch. Oh, she had no idea how to play The Game. It wouldn't take her much effort at all to manipulate the clueless dear into becoming an ardent supporter of the Circle way of life and her protegee. The title of First Enchanter of Montsimmard would be hers once again, and the Circles restored to their proper state, no matter what the rabble said.

Poor, idiotic Alphonse made to draw his sword on the Herald, and Vivienne waved a careless hand, freezing him in place. Time to see what the Dalish girl was really made of, and possibly get her revenge on Alphonse for his comments at the same time. Gliding down the staircase, Vivienne drawled, "My dear Marquise, how unkind of you to use such language in my house… to my guests. You know such rudeness is... intolerable."

The elf's other eyebrow rose, and her mouth pursed, attempting to hide a frown. Interesting. Was it the Marquise's manners, or her using magic on him that she objected to? Still, she had committed to her path, and she intended to follow through, whether the Herald objected or not.

"Madame Vivienne, I humbly beg your pardon!"

"You should." Oh, if she had the time to sit and savor the frisson of fear in his voice, the embarrassment of being called out in front of the cream of Orlesian society. She strutted around Alphonse, sniffing delicately at him. "Whatever am I going to do with you, my dear?"

Turning away from him dramatically, Vivienne spoke to the Herald, "My lady, you are the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?"

The elven woman's unnervingly green eyes glanced at Marquise Alphonse, then raked over Vivienne. Was the elf actually… _judging_ her? Vivienne's hand twitched, a reflexive response from living so long among Orlesians. Were the Herald any other elf, Vivienne would slap her for the insolence in her tone and the flip of her hand when she spoke. "The Marquise doesn't interest me. Do whatever you like with him."

"Poor Marquise, issuing challenges and hurling insults like some Fereldan Dog Lord." Vivienne ran her fingernails over Alphonse's cheek and the sheen of ice over it, then snapped her fingers to release him. Making a show of her magic would keep him in line from now on, even if it wasn't as satisfying as killing him on the Herald's orders would be. Might as well murder him socially, instead.

"And all dressed up in your Aunt Solange's doublet. Didn't she give you that to wear to the Grand Tourney? To think, all the brave Chevaliers who will be competing left for Markham this morning… and you're still _here_. Were you hoping to sate your damaged pride by defeating the Herald of Andraste in a public duel, or did you think her blade could put an end to the misery of your failure? Run along, my dear. Do give my regards to your aunt."

Alphonse slunk off, humiliated and humbled. Vivienne could have purred with satisfaction. Now, to attend to the Herald and solidify both her political position, and ensure that the Circles came back to solidify her social position. Vivienne turned and gave a quick dip of her head, using the opportunity to survey her quarry. Up close, she could see freckles across the Herald's nose and cheeks along with the garish aubergine tattoos. _Positively ghastly!_ And dear Maker, she wasn't even wearing shoes! Her toes and feet were only separated from the chateau's fine marble floors by those _hideous_ wraps Dalish wore. Oh, she had her work cut out for her.

"I'm delighted you could attend this little gathering, I've so wanted to meet you."

She gestured to the stairs for the Herald, who turned to her companions, and said, "Please wait here for me."

As they ascended the stairs, Vivienne shuddered. Seeker Pentaghast was at least royalty. The other two were… distasteful companions for one so high as the Herald. A bald apostate elf whose clothes, while new, did nothing to flatter him and were in no way fashionable. The dwarf with her at least had clothes suitable for his coloring, even if he could stand a bath and buttoning up his shirt a little more.

Stopping at one of the large, and recently replaced, Serault glass windows Vivienne turned and smiled as sincerely as she could. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court."

The corners of the elf's mouth pinched at her title of First Enchanter. Oh dear, she would have to cultivate the girl carefully, make her see that the Circles to the benefit of everyone, even the Dalish heathens. The girl looked back to where Alphonse had confronted her, "Is that Marquise going to be a problem?"

"His aunt is the Vicomtesse of Mont-du-Glace. Not a powerful family, but well-respected… and very devout. Alphonse will be disowned for this. It's not the first time he's brought his aunt disgrace, but I'm sure it'll be the last. And after such a public humiliation, I'm sure he'll run off to the Dales to join the Empress's war effort. Either to make a good end, or to win back a modicum of self-respect."

A groove formed between the Herald's brows at the mention of the fighting in the Dales. This was not going as Vivienne had planned. Instead of being concerned about her own appearance and the influence that having a First Enchanter and Court Enchanter in the Inquisition would bring, the child was upset over the war tearing the Dales asunder. Certainly some of the Dalish had been caught in the crossfire, but that was _their_ doing for not moving off quickly enough.

The Herald gave a stiff smile, and a stiffer bow, "I am Fen'lath Lavellan, First of the Dalish clan Lavellan. Your salon has exceeded my expectations so far."

"I'm glad to keep you entertained, my dear. I wanted to meet face to face. It is important to consider one's connections carefully. With Divine Justinia dead, the Chantry is in shambles. Only the Inquisition might restore sanity and order to our frightened people." Fen'lath- _what an absurd name, she should consider changing it_ -nodded in agreement. Vivienne warmed her smile and tone, adding a cajoling note. "As the leader of the last loyal mages of Thedas, I feel it only right that I lend my assistance to your cause."

Fen'lath leaned against one of the stonework colonnades and crossed her arms. "What's in this for you?"

"The same thing anyone gets by fighting this chaos: The chance to meet my enemy, to decide my fate. I won't wait quietly for destruction." _Or for the rebels to gather enough support with their pitiful bleating_.

Pointed chin lifting again, the Herald raised a brow, "What exactly can you do for the Inquisition?"

Vivienne felt the urge to slap her again. How dare she imply that she would be just another hanger-on hoping to gain prestige by association! "I am well-versed in the politics of the Orlesian Empire. I know every member of the Imperial Court personally. I have all the resources remaining to the Circle at my disposal. And I'm a mage of no small talent. Will that do?"

Her snide tone brought a smirk to Fen'lath's face. "Does that mean you'd be aiding the Inquisition from the Imperial palace?"

 _Why that little_ -"Ordinarily, I would be happy to serve as a liason to the Court, but these are not ordinary times. The Veil has been ripped apart, and there is a hole in the sky. It is now the duty of every mage to work toward sealing the Breach, and so I would join the Inquisition on the field of battle."

Blood rushed in Vivienne's ears as the little upstart rabbit questioned her about the loyalist mages. The Herald- _the word was bitter even to think!_ -had no Wicked Grace face, her distaste for the Circles and the training therein plain on her face. As if there would be another answer, she asked if Vivienne was in favor of returning every single one of the rebel mob to the Circle.

"Where else can mages safely learn to master their talents?" Vivienne bit out, "We need an institution to protect and nurture magic. Maker knows, magic will find neither on its own."

The infuriating little smirk returned, and Fen'lath straightened. She tilted her head to the side, considering Vivienne, and giving her a look like she would actually have the audacity to refuse her offer. Vivienne felt her temper rising once more when the Herald finally nodded. "The Inquisition will be happy to have you, Lady Vivienne."

 _Thank the Maker._ Temper banked, she gave the Herald a tight smile. She would have to work on breaking Fen'lath in and sculpting her into her protegee as quickly as possible. "Great things are beginning, my dear. I can promise you that."


End file.
